Skip to main content

Bottom and Titania in a Multiplex


Bottom had walked into the multiplex for window-shopping.  The centralised air-conditioning in the multiplex was a joyful relief from the scorching heat in the city’s overcrowded open spaces.  Moreover, he could gratify his voyeuristic inclination by looking at the legs or cleavages of the pretty fairies that wafted coquettishly around with mobile phones clinging to their ears like earrings and chocobars slipping through their velveteen lips.

Though he imagined the girls as fairies Bottom didn’t really believe that fairies existed.  So when he was approached by Titania, the fairy queen herself, his surprise was quite palpable.  But, like most twenty-first century boys (and girls, of course), he knew how to tackle any odd situation in life and so he overcame his surprise sooner than any person from another period of human history would.
Titania had just woken up from a sleep.  But her mind was still under the influence of the overdose of the sex pill she had had earlier.  The first man she saw as she woke up was Bottom. Yes, she was sleeping in the multiplex.  Fairies can sleep anywhere. In the olden times they used to sleep in the cool shade of trees in some jungle.  When jungles started disappearing fairies faced the threat of extinction like the Indian tigers.  However, unlike the Indian tigers, the fairies discovered appropriate places for survival – the air-conditioned multiplex, for instance. So there she was, Titania, with all her attendant bevy of fairy maids.  She saw Bottom sitting absolutely relaxed on one of the chairs on the third floor of the multiplex, watching the girls on the ever-flowing escalators, with his legs stretched out as far as they would go.
“You look fabulously handsome, young man.  I’m bowled over.”
Bottom looked at the beautiful but odd and tiny creature standing before him, then at the other creatures who accompanied her, and again at the speaker. By the time his gaze travelled so much he had overcome his surprise. 
“Yeah, no wonder you’re bowled over.  I had a lot of girlfriends at school, you know. You are also welcome.  One more won’t make much difference.”
“You are as wise as you are handsome.”
“Well, you know, I think I’ve seen you somewhere earlier.”
He must have seen her in his fairy tale books which he used to read long ago.
“Ask me whatever you wish and my maids will attend to your wishes instantly.”
Quite strange, thought Bottom.  But like most boys (and girls, of course) of his time he knew how to rise to the occasion.  “Okay, I want my parents to stop peering into my room to check what I’m doing with my laptop.”
“Do you really want that, dear?” asked Titania, though she was under the spell of the sex pill.
“You said you could get me anything. Get me this and prove yourself.”
“But...” hesitated Titania. She was not as quick as the new generation lover of hers.
“Alright, darling.  I’m paralysing your parents.  They won’t ever walk anymore.”  Fairies belonged to an ancient period.  For them curse and blessing were all a once and for all thing.  They were not aware of multitasking or part-time jobs, for example. Eternity does not understand calendars.
“Where are you going so soon, darling? Sit with me, play with me, dance with me…” pleaded Titania under the influence of the sex pill and also the ignorance about human nature. 
“You think I’m nuts? Bye, see you, ta ta... I just want to make sure that they are indeed paralysed.”
The shock of base ingratitude was too much even for the hangover of the sex pills.  When the hangover took an unexpectedly earlier leave of her, Titania realised what a fool she had been making of herself.
“This is the problem of deforestation,” she mumbled to herself as she went in search of Oberon who might be flirting with some dunce with hair dyed in brilliant colours in another part of the multiplex.

[This is a spoof on Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act III, Scene i. Titania is the fairy queen in the play and Oberon is the king.  Bottom is a working class member of Shakespeare’s contemporary London society.]




Top post on IndiBlogger.in, the community of Indian Bloggers




Comments

  1. [ Smiles ] Well, it was certainly an enjoyable read.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Gosh Sir! An intellectual spoof indeed. Very real and believable.
    Imagine Bottom not protesting & rather going to check if his parents are really paralyzed...
    Forests replaced with Concrete Jungles. And innocent fairies now under the effect of harmful pills...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Anita, for your patience to understand my stories.

      Delete
  3. An interesting spoof! Really funny!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pranita a perverted genius

Bulldozer begins its work at Sawan Pranita was a perverted genius. She had Machiavelli’s brain, Octavian’s relentlessness, and Levin’s intellectual calibre. She could have worked wonders if she wanted. She could have created a beautiful world around her. She had the potential. Yet she chose to be a ruthless exterminator. She came to Sawan Public School just to kill it. A religious cult called Radha Soami Satsang Beas [RSSB] had taken over the school from its owner who had never visited the school for over 20 years. This owner, a prominent entrepreneur with a gargantuan ego, had come to the conclusion that the morality of the school’s staff was deviating from the wavelengths determined by him. Moreover, his one foot was inching towards the grave. I was also told that there were some domestic noises which were grating against his patriarchal sensibilities. One holy solution for all these was to hand over the school and its enormous campus (nearly 20 acres of land on the outskirts

Machiavelli the Reverend

Let us go today , you and I, through certain miasmic streets. Nothing will be quite clear along our way because this journey is through some delusions and illusions. You will meet people wearing holy robes and talking about morality and virtues. Some of them will claim to be god’s men and some will make taller claims. Some of them are just amorphous. Invisible. But omnipotent. You can feel their power around you. On you. Oppressing you. Stifling you. Reverend Machiavelli is one such oppressive power. You will meet Franz Kafka somewhere along the way. Joseph K’s ghost will pass by. Remember Joseph K who was arrested one fine morning for a crime that nobody knew anything about? Neither Joseph nor the men who arrest him know why Joseph K is arrested. The power that keeps Joseph K under arrest is invisible. He cannot get answers to his valid questions from the visible agents of that power. He cannot explain himself to that power. Finally, he is taken to a quarry outside the town wher

Levin the good shepherd

AI-generated image The lost sheep and its redeemer form a pet motif in Christianity. Jesus portrayed himself as a good shepherd many times. He said that the good shepherd will leave his 99 sheep in order to bring the lost sheep back to the fold. When he finds the lost sheep, the shepherd is happier about that one sheep than about the 99, Jesus claimed. He was speaking metaphorically. The lost sheep is the sinner in Jesus’ parable. Sin is a departure from the ‘right’ way. Angels raise a toast in heaven whenever a sinner returns to the ‘right’ path [Luke 15:10]. A lot of Catholic priests I know carry some sort of a Redeemer complex in their souls. They love the sinner so much that they cannot rest until they make the angels of God run for their cups of joy. I have also been fortunate to have one such priest-friend whom I shall call Levin in this post. He has befriended me right from the year 1976 when I was a blundering adolescent and he was just one year older than me. He possesse

Queen of Religion

She looked like Queen Victoria in the latter’s youth but with a snow-white head. She was slim, fair and graceful. She always smiled but the smile had no life. Someone on the campus described it as a “plastic smile.” She was charming by physical appearance. Soon all of us on the Sawan school campus would realise how deceptive appearances were. Queen took over the administration of Sawan school on behalf of her religious cult RSSB [Radha Soami Satsang Beas]. A lot was said about RSSB in the previous post. Its godman Gurinder Singh Dhillon is now 70 years old. I don’t know whether age has mellowed his lust for land and wealth. Even at the age of 64, he was embroiled in a financial scam that led to the fall of two colossal business enterprises, Fortis Healthcare and Religare finance. That was just a couple of years after he had succeeded in making Sawan school vanish without a trace from Delhi which he did for the sake of adding the school’s twenty-odd acres of land to his existing hun

Nakulan the Outcast

Nakulan was one of the many tenants of Hevendrea . A professor in the botany department of the North Eastern Hill University, he was a very lovable person. Some sense of inferiority complex that came from his caste status made him scoff the very idea of his lovability. He lived with his wife and three children in one of Heavendrea’s many cottages. When he wanted to have a drink, he would walk over to my hut. We sipped our whiskies and discussed Shillong’s intriguing politics or something of the sort while my cassette player crooned gently in the background. Nakulan was more than ten years my senior by age. He taught a subject which had never aroused my interest at any stage of my life. It made no difference to me whether a leaf was pinnately compound or palmately compound. You don’t need to know about anther and stigma in order to understand a flower. My friend Levin would have ascribed my lack of interest in Nakulan’s subject to my egomania. I always thought that Nakulan lived